


The Quiet Moments

by electrictoes



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrictoes/pseuds/electrictoes
Summary: He doesn’t want to forget how this moment feels; not ever.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Kudos: 4





	The Quiet Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Original posted on fandom_fridays on Livejournal. Prompt: "Laughter is..."

Laughter is the first thing Jack hears when he wakes up, alone, in Ianto’s bed. He lies there, still, and listens carefully to what’s going on outside the bedroom door. It’s ajar and he can hear voices. The laughter is definitely coming from a child, but he knows his lover must be out there too.

“The living room’s that way,” he hears Ianto say and closes his eyes. Company. He wonders briefly why he hadn’t registered that at the sound of the child’s laughter and decides he hasn’t had enough sleep. The light streaming through the open door is blocked for a moment and he can see the familiar shape of Ianto hovering by the door. He pulls it closed, but Jack can still hear what’s going on.

“I’m sorry,” a voice says. It’s a woman. Welsh. Jack can tell nothing else from it. “You’ve got company. We shouldn’t have-”

Jack doesn’t hear anything from Ianto, but imagines he’s shaking his head.

He pulls the covers up over himself a little, not to conserve any type of modesty, but because Ianto’s bedroom gets quite cold in the mornings (which generally gives Jack an excuse to suggest activities that’ll warm up them both up). He settles himself more comfortably on the bed as he hears the woman again, scolding the child (or children) that is currently in Ianto’s flat.

Ianto’s voice fills the flat again then, and Jack relishes in the sound. He loves that the walls in Ianto’s flat are in no way soundproof; they can always hear each other. Unfortunately, this means that the neighbours can also hear them and Ianto has some (although not many) issues about having sex on the kitchen table after old Mrs Hornsby from next door’s come round to ask if they’d possibly mind being a little bit quieter because she can’t hear the Antique’s Roadshow.

“It’s fine,” Ianto’s saying. “Jack can sleep through anything.”

“Jack?” the woman says and Jack wonders who she might be. The logical part of Jack’s brain says she must be Ianto’s sister, but he thinks it odd that he wouldn’t have mentioned her coming round, or at least that he would have let Jack stay the night knowing she was going to visit. Unless he didn’t know that, which is of course a possibility. Jack never had a sister himself, but he’s well aware from people he’s been in relationships with in the past that sisters have a habit of doing things like showing up unannounced.

“My...” He listens to Ianto hesitate. “My company.”

Jack forces himself not to laugh out loud. Thin walls. It’s probably best he stays in bed, in that case. Company makes it sound like Ianto doesn’t want to give too many details and by too many details Jack means things like gender.

“Right,” the woman says, and then, “we can go if it’s a bad time.”

“No,” Ianto says. “You’re fine, Rhiannon. Jack isn’t going to wake up for hours and I don’t have much to do.”

Jack is thankful to have a name, because even in his head ‘the woman’ was getting quite a boring way to think about someone, and also because it confirms his suspicions that this woman is Ianto’s sister. It also confirms to Jack that he should stay in bed; he can’t out Ianto to his family just because he needs the toilet (which he doesn’t, but he may do at some point if they’re here for a while). Jack is also, as an afterthought, a little offended by Ianto’s assumption he’s going to spend the whole day sleeping. Although, they did only fall into bed at four am and Jack had died twice the previous night. Still, Ianto himself must be exhausted. Ianto, however, wakes up for things like doorbells and ringing phones and rift alarms. Jack does too, well, rift alarms at least, but never when Ianto’s there. It’s like his brain turns off when he knows there’s someone else around to worry about these things.

When Jack thinks about how long he was awake yesterday and how little sleep he’s had, listening to Ianto’s conversation with his sister begins to feel like effort and he sinks back into the pillows a little more, just hearing the vague murmur of Welsh accents as he drifts back to sleep.

There’s laughter again when Jack wakes up, but it’s not just that of a child. There are giggling children, sure, but there’s adult laughter. Ianto’s laughter. Jack smiles to himself and stares up at the ceiling. His stomach rumbles and he glances at the clock and wonders if there’s any chance of making it from Ianto’s bedroom to the kitchen without anyone spotting him.

Ianto, however, is as psychic as Jack has always suspected he might be, because just as Jack is beginning to form a plan of action the bedroom door opens and Ianto smiles at him from the doorway. “Hey,” he says, his voice quiet. “My sister’s here.”

Jack nods. “I heard her arriving.”

“Oh.” Ianto shuts the door behind him as he crosses the room. “Have you been lying in here awake all this time?”

Jack shakes his head. “I fell back to sleep.” He pushes himself into a sitting position as Ianto places a mug of coffee on the bedside table. “I can stay in here a while longer if you want.”

Ianto reaches, hesitantly, for Jack’s hand. Jack moves the distance between them and grips at Ianto’s fingers, not sure what his young lover wants. He offers him a smile, all the same. Ianto says nothing.

“I heard you laughing,” Jack tells him. “That’s nice. Hearing you laugh.”

“I laugh plenty,” Ianto protests.

Jack nods. “Yeah, at filthy jokes or Gwen covered in slime. But not... not like that. Normal laughter, just because you’re with your family and you’re happy.”

Ianto shrugs. “Have you been listening to everything?”

“No,” Jack tells him. “Only the bits before I fell asleep.”

Ianto laughs and drops his head to kiss Jack’s lips. “You really were sleeping?”

“Mmm,” Jack says, watching Ianto pull back from him. “I was tired. Why aren’t you?”

“I am,” he says, “but the doorbell went and I could hardly tell Rhiannon to bugger off so I could have a nap.”

“I suppose not,” Jack comments, glancing down at his and Ianto’s hands, still joined together. “Everything okay?”

“With me or Rhiannon?”

Jack shrugs. “Both. Either.”

“She’s fallen out with her husband, didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Ianto tells him. “Well, at least nowhere that Johnny wouldn’t think to look."

Jack nods slowly and thinks that it’s sad that Ianto’s flat is the last place anyone would expect his sister to be. “And you?”

“I...” Ianto is hesitant, but Jack can be patient when he needs to be and he’ll give Ianto as much time as he needs. They sit in silence for a moment before Ianto speaks. “I didn’t know what to tell her about you.”

Jack nods. “Did you tell her anything?”

“I had to,” Ianto says. “You can’t hide in here all day.”

Jack says nothing, he waits for Ianto to tell him what story he’s to go along with. He won’t force Ianto to come out to his family; Jack has lived through the nineteenth and twentieth century already; repression of sexuality is something he’s become used to with his partners. One day, in the not too far future, all that will be forgotten. Jack will live through that, too, but he doesn’t dwell on it because, here and now, he only dwells on Ianto and Ianto, while wonderful in many, many ways, still has twenty first century hang ups.

“I told her you were my boyfriend,” Ianto says eventually. His eyes lock on Jack’s. “Is that okay?”

Jack kisses him. Because he can, because he wants to, because he thinks that’s what Ianto wants too. It’s a slow kiss, the kind you melt into, and it lasts far longer than it probably should with Ianto’s sister and her children waiting in the living room. Ianto rests his hands on Jack’s thighs when they break apart.

“I should go back to them.” He places the briefest of kisses on Jack’s lips and slides off the bed. “Get up whenever you like.”

Jack nods, watching him go. He lifts his coffee to his mouth and sips at it. He’ll give Ianto another five minutes with his sister before he joins them. He thinks that he should probably get dressed, too. He’s met lover’s families before and experience has taught him that it’s best to be wearing underpants. More clothes too, if you can manage it, but underpants at the very least. He waits until he’s finished his coffee before dressing in last night’s trousers and one of Ianto’s t-shirts. He idly thinks that he should start leaving clothes at Ianto’s, like Ianto does at the Hub, but it’s one of those things that would feel too much like a statement rather than a necessity and Jack has never been very good at that sort of thing. He would prefer to wait until Ianto suggested it; like the toothbrush in his young lover’s bathroom. If Ianto suggests it then it will feel more like the practical thing to do rather than something he’s done just because he wants to make this into something more.

He hovers at the door before opening it. It’s not that he’s nervous about meeting Ianto’s sister. In his experience, sisters generally like him. He’s good looking and charming and he knows the sort of things not to say to family members. His hesitation is purely to allow him to revel in the sound of Ianto’s laughter a few minutes longer. He loves that sound; it’s one of the most beautiful sounds in the universe, and Jack knows beautiful.

He walks into the living room with his usual confidence and throws a kilowatt smile at Ianto’s family. His sister is sat on an arm chair with a small girl at her feet, while Ianto play fights with a boy of about ten. The children don’t look up as he enters the room and nor does Ianto. His sister looks Jack up and down, but doesn’t say a word. Jack takes it as a good sign and moves to sit on the sofa, watching Ianto and his nephew wrestle. It’s normal and comfortable and he likes that nobody is acting like his presence is anything exciting (Ianto will likely disagree later and tell everyone how disappointed Jack was not to be the centre of attention, but that’s because it’s what everyone expects of him and, Jack knows, Ianto likes to keep things like this, the quiet moments, to himself), he stretches his legs, accidentally on purpose kicking Ianto in the process. Ianto lifts his head, flashes Jack a grin and then kicks him, hard, in the thigh, before continuing to roughhouse with the young boy. Jack grins at the sight before him and closes his eyes, just for a second, committing the sound of their game to his memory; Ianto’s carefree amusement, the squeals of overexcited children, the indulgent laughter of an older sister, a mother. He doesn’t want to forget how this moment feels; not ever. He will take it and he will cherish it for a thousand years and more. He will remember it long after he has forgotten their first kiss and even after their last has faded from his memory.


End file.
